


Crossing the River

by sinnerman



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2 - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-09-16
Updated: 2010-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:12:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinnerman/pseuds/sinnerman





	1. Ten

"Jordan dear, why do you have your backpack? It's not a school day."  
Jordan looked up at his mother. Even if he hadn't been only ten years old, and she his mother, he still would have thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Most people did. "I'm running away from home," he announced.  
"Oh no!" His mother knelt down, and smoothed his hair. "Why? Are you unhappy?"  
Jordan shook his head. "I'm just going to see Grampa's performance, but Dad said I couldn't make it on my own, so I'm running away to prove that I can."  
"Oh," she said understandingly. Jordan's father snorted, and continued reading his news sheet and pretended he wasn't listening.  
Jordan kissed his mother and sat down at the table to have breakfast.  
"So, what's in your bag?" asked his older brother, Venn.  
"Um... some music for Grampa to look at, a book to read on the way, and pads with the travel data and the shuttle schedules. And some other stuff."  
"Hmmm..." Venn considered. "You'll probably need some credits."  
Jordan blinked. "I have enough for the tickets."  
"You should always have extra. For emergencies and stuff." For a sixteen-year old, Venn knew an awful lot about emergencies – and stuff.  
Jordan's father snorted again.  
"Oh, don't be such an ogre," said his mother. "I know! Jordan, will you carry a letter for me to your grandfather?" She glanced at her husband, her beautiful brown eyes mischievous. "The princess is going to plead for help so that her father can come rescue her from the wicked ogre."  
Jordan's father sipped calmly at his coffee. "Be sure to mention how the ogre plans to eat the princess if she's not careful."  
"Jonathan!"  
Jordan's father chuckled to himself, and Venn suddenly turned bright red.  
"Dad!"  
Jordan looked around in confusion, and Jordan's father burst out laughing.  
"Listen, I'm taking the car, and I'm going to be in the South fields today, so try not to get caught too early." Jordan's father flipped the news sheet to the agribusiness section.  
"I'm not gonna get caught!" Jordan insisted.  
"Lemme see your bag," Venn held out his hand, and Jordan handed it over. Venn checked over the items in his little brother's backpack, and when Jordan wasn't looking, slipped a tracker into the zipper pocket and then put a credit chit into Jordan's wallet.  
"I saw that!" Jordan frowned. "I'm not going to be able to pay you back. Take it out."  
"Nah," said Venn. "It's a present. You might need it, and I won't." He handed back the bag. "You can pay me back later."  
Jordan accepted the bag, muttering something under his breath about not being a baby, which his mother completely ruined by kissing him on the top of his head.  
"Here's my letter," she said brightly, sliding a sealed pad into Jordan's backpack, and then added a bag of cookies, a sandwich pack, and two drink bottles.  
"Mom! How is it running away if everyone gives me stuff? You're ruining it!"  
"Well, that's because we like you," said Venn, and grinned at his father. "Not like some people who ran away because they hated their family and all the cows."  
Jordan's father snickered. "What's that, son? You want to go visit your uncle and take up cow farming?"  
"Ugh, no," Venn shuddered.  
Jordan's father finally put down the news sheet. "Well, I'm off. Anybody want to hitch a ride since I am going to be driving past the shuttle depot?"  
Jordan quickly finished his sandwich and kissed his mother goodbye.  
"Do I get one of those?" his father asked, grinning at his beautiful wife.  
"Only because you're driving him to the depot," she said demurely.  
Jordan rolled his eyes. "I'll wait in the car until you two are finished smooching."  
"You know, someday, you'll like girls and you'll do this too," his father insisted.  
"Nuh-uh," Jordan ran out and jumped in the car. He looked curiously at the credit chit that Venn had put in his bag, then quickly slid it out of sight as his father came out of the house. Where had Venn gotten so much money, he wondered to himself.  
Jordan and his father drove along in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Jordan counted the trees, the cars, the workers in the fields.  
"How many tractors are there in Borel's field today?" asked his father suddenly.  
"Eight. How many blue cars do you see on I-103?"  
"Fourteen," his father grinned, "counting the one that just ran the red light." They played their little game all the way to the shuttle depot. "You have Venn's number?" his father asked as Jordan got out of the car.  
Jordan nodded.  
"Have fun, kid, whether you make it or not."  
"I'll tell Grampa you said hi." Jordan stuck out his tongue at his dad, who laughed and drove off. Jordan walked up to the kiosk, and bought his tickets for the shuttle to the colony where his mother's parents lived. He showed his documentation, walked through security, and took his seat quietly, waiting for the shuttle to depart.  
The shuttle wasn't very full. A group of unpleasant looking men were the last to board, and Jordan stared at them curiously as the shuttle took off. One of the men was wearing dark glasses, and Jordan noticed he was missing an eye. The men were speaking quietly to each other. One of them accidentally knocked over one of the bags, and quickly picked it up, but not before Jordan noticed a stream of red particles coming from the case. He got up and walked down the shuttle toward the cockpit.  
"Hey, kid, want to see them fly the ship?" The guard grinned at him, trying to humor the little boy.  
"Can I?" he asked.  
"Sure, just don't touch anything." The guard opened the door, and Jordan waited for the door to close before speaking to the Alliance officer.  
"There's a guy back there, he has one eye, and his bag is full of Red Sand," said Jordan, interrupting the officer before he could start his standard spiel on safety.  
"What?"  
"In Row 40. He's with six other guys. I can't tell if they have weapons or not."  
The Alliance officer brought up a viewscreen, and began scanning the passengers. Jordan walked over curiously. "Penny, could you keep this young man busy?" He stepped outside, and locked the door to the cockpit.  
The pilot, a very nice woman, took Jordan's hand and led him away. Disappointed, Jordan followed her, and she let him sit in one of the side chairs and showed him all the instruments. She even let him play with the secondary map, and he ended up sharing his sandwich with her. She gave him a model shuttle to take home, and Jordan suddenly realized that they had landed on Ravinia II. The Alliance officer was gone. He wondered what had happened, but Penny didn't say anything about the one-eyed guy or the Alliance officer as she walked him off the shuttle.  
"Jordan!"  
"Granma!" Jordan ran up, and into his grandmother's arms. "What are you doing here?"  
His grandmother was talking into a communicator. "Yes, calm down, Veronique, he's right here. He's fine. Say something to your mother, Jordan."  
Confused, Jordan took the comm unit from his grandmother. "Hi, Mom!"  
"Oh, baby, you're okay!" his mother was sobbing hysterically into the comm.  
"What? Of course I'm okay, mom. I got a VX model shuttle! Why are you crying?"  
"Jordan, honey, you stay with your grandmother. We'll be there to pick you up, don't you dare leave!" She was still crying, and he could hear his father in the background.  
"Okay," he said in confusion, and looked at his grandmother, who was shaking her head and reaching for the comm unit. "I think Granma wants to talk to you again."  
"Veronique?" She ruffled Jordan's hair, and listened to the comm unit. "He's fine, I don't think he even knows what happened. Now just calm down, and let Jonathan talk." Jordan hugged his grandmother, trying to avoid the curious stares of reporters, who were snapping pictures of his grandmother. That always happened, she was a famous model who had married a famous musician and had two semi-famous daughters. The local authorities were shooing people away, and Jordan's grandmother finally finished talking. "Come on, let's go see the performance. You said you got a model?"  
Jordan decided it wasn't worth asking his grandmother for an explanation of why his mother was upset, and instead showed off the new model that the pilot had given him. He could tell she wanted to avoid the discussion. They got into her car, and the driver zipped off to the concert hall. Jordan delivered the cookies and the letter to his grandfather, who laughed aloud at the letter and shared the cookies with him. After the concert, they went to dinner, and Jordan fell asleep over dessert. When he woke up, he was sitting on his father's lap, and there was a news broadcast on the vidscreen about a hijacking attempt. He sat up a little, trying to listen, but his mother turned off the news as soon as she saw him move. She looked lovelier than usual; her eyes were very wide and soft. She leaned over and kissed his forehead, and Jordan suspected that she'd been doing that a lot while he had been sleeping. He looked around. "Where's Venn?" His grandparents were sipping coffee, but he didn't see his older brother anywhere.  
"Venn's staying over at Nida's house," his father answered.  
Jordan looked at him in surprise. His parents had been adamant about Venn not sleeping over at his girlfriend's house.  
"He earned a reward," Jordan's father grinned, and then, surprisingly, hugged him. "You should be in bed, pup. Come on." He stood up, still holding Jordan, and started upstairs to the guest bedroom.  
"I can walk!" Jordan protested.  
"I know," said his father gently. "Cut me some slack, you'll be too big to toss around soon."


	2. Mindoir

Jordan had learned a long time ago not to tell other people about the voices.  
Sometimes, it was unavoidable. Like when they told him to get off shuttles before they crashed. He'd spent two years being interrogated for a potential terrorist link before they found enough evidence to convince them that he was serious about the voices. And by serious, they meant crazy.  
Sometimes, it was just an accident. Like when he had saved Mei from the crash last year. He sometimes spoke to them aloud when he was stressed, and he had needed their help to find her. And because he had finally tried to explain it, she was now convinced he was crazy, and wanted to get away from him forever.  
Which wasn't working out well, because the voices were particularly insistent today that he needed to get out of the city, but wouldn't say why.  
They didn't actually speak, not the way Humans did. They didn't form words that he understood. They gave impressions. Directions. It wasn't "Turn left at the next light," it would be a shadowy picture of a generic crossroads, then a directional guidelight would appear, and indicate the proper direction. Sometimes they would actually say "Yes," or "No," or if they really had an important message, like today, they would build a phrase, putting together pictures and sounds that triggered the right reaction, and then keep repeating it over and over until he did what they said.  
"Leave the city."  
Jordan gritted his teeth, and knocked on Mei's door again. "C'mon, Mei! I just want to talk." I'm not leaving without her, he said in his mind.  
Mei's father answered the door. They had never approved of the young musician dating their daughter, and they only tolerated him because he had saved her life. "Jordan, I'm sorry, but Mei is lying down with one of her migraines. She doesn't want to talk to you right now."  
He tried to say something, but the voices stopped him. "Leave the city," they said more insistently, using images and almost-words. He couldn't even imagine why they needed him to leave the city. Mindoir was a farming colony. There was an Alliance outpost, but other than that there was nothing here. Jordan walked back home, and tried to call Mei again. She still wasn't answering.  
"Mei, please, if you get this message, meet me at our summer spot. I just want to talk to you, please. Bring whoever you want, just come."  
He grabbed his guitar and his backpack. His parents were still at work, and they were used to their youngest son taking off for the weekend. They wouldn't be surprised at all, probably relieved.  
Jordan took his bike out from the garage, checked the fuel and made sure that he had a bottle of water. He was irritated to find that Venn had left his guns in the bike again. Their father disapproved of weapons, and wouldn't have them inside the house. So when his older brother Venn lost his license, he had taken to hiding his weapons in Jordan's things because no one ever searched there.  
"Serves you right," Jordan muttered to himself and strapped on his guitar, leaving the pistols in the saddlebag. He put on his helmet and riding armor, and took the dirt roads out of the town, heading towards the secret cave that he had showed to Mei last summer, when she was still wildly in love with him. He cranked the bike up to its top speeds, racing the wind, and played his normal game of keeping in cover as much as possible.  
The 'summer spot' was a small cave that Jordan had found years ago, when he was a child. He had only shown Mei the front entrance, but there was a lower level that he had never shown to anyone. He took his bike in through the concealed lower level entrance, and parked his bike. Jordan checked the engines for any road wear and made sure the hover enablers weren't cracked. He'd never had an accident with his bike, and he didn't want to start now.  
He looked around the chamber. It wasn't very large. There were weird things in the walls, structures that could have been ancient statues, but were probably just large natural bulges, or maybe rusted pipes from the underground irrigation system. It just struck him, now, for some reason, how small the room would be if you had to stay for more than a few days. Only big enough for one person, really. Maybe two, but they would have to be really close. Jordan suddenly realized those weren't his thoughts, and that the voices were trying to tell him something.  
A crack, louder than anything he had ever heard in his life, hammered into his head. Jordan ran upstairs, and looked outside. There were ships dropping out of the sky, shooting. They were everywhere.  
Houses were burning. People were burning. Jordan stood completely still. He knew that the overhang of the cave entrance meant that no one could see him from the sky. The Alliance outpost was a smoking crater. The downtown office building where his mother worked was tilted oddly, and seemed to be toppling over in slow motion. The fields where his father would be at this time of day were a blaze of fire. Venn's factory was a pillar of smoke.  
"Why... why didn't you tell me earlier?"  
The voices were silent. All he had was that impression from earlier, the smallness of this one, safe refuge.  
Jordan fell to his knees, but he couldn't take his eyes away from the devastation. He had to do something. He couldn't just sit here and watch his entire world be destroyed.  
The comm tower. They would have taken out the first one, but if the secondary comm tower, the one out far away from everything, was still up and running, he could call for help. Even if they had disabled it, he knew enough about that old and outdated tower to get it back up, at least enough to send a distress signal.  
Jordan took one last look at the shattered colony, and retreated to the lower level to wait for sundown. He tried not to think about his parents, his brothers, his girlfriend. He concentrated on planning out the run to the old comm tower. Getting past the standard security. Dodging any guards the raiders might have. Opening the lock on the rear entrance. Planning out every step, calculating every possibility. Anything to keep his mind away from what was left of his home.  
He set his bike for silent running, and put his riding armor back on. The dark color would help with sneaking. He had considered walking to the tower, but a fast getaway was too important. He raced through the fields, keeping low so he wouldn't make a ripple in the stalks, in case anyone was watching. Once out of the fields, he used the aqueducts for cover, knowing that the shadow of his bike on the pipes and the water would be indistinguishable unless they were right on top of him.  
The last part of his run would be hard if the attackers had set any guards on the comm tower. Jordan stopped at the last section of the aqueducts and hid his bike in the shadows. He would have to walk from here. There was a small shuttle on the outskirts of the communications relay.  
Jordan waited patiently, scanning the area. There were some aliens in the comm tower, and one was standing at the edge of the road. He'd never seen anything like them before. They had four eyes, and ugly greenish-brown skin. The alien was leaning on the fence, and smoking a cigarette. Jordan decided to take the risk, and snuck through the underbrush to the rear of the shuttle. It was a standard galactic make, the typical Elkoss build. Jordan stood on the lower exhaust vent so his feet wouldn't be visible from the road, and crouched so his shadow would blend in. He carefully opened the rear access panel, and quickly moved a few wires around before replacing the panel, then did the same thing on another access panel. He carefully dropped back down to the ground and went towards the comm tower, careful to stay in shadow and moving slowly and silently.  
He went around the back of the tower, and carefully lifted the grate covering the sewer. The sewer had an entrance to the service tunnel, where the tower's distress signal "black box" was located. It was currently disconnected because the systems tech who was supposed to fix it had been fired last month, and no one had ever put it back. Jordan remembered how angry Venn had been at losing the job, because they were just going to hire him again. There weren't that many techs on Mindoir that they could afford to lose one permanently.  
As he had hoped, no one had ever fixed the service tunnel door. Jordan listened carefully. No one was down here. He entered the tower, and unscrewed the last four service stairs just in case someone tried to come down from the main level. He pulled out Venn's old toolbox from where he had left it under the workbench, and began working on the black box. He worked as quickly as he could, and was eventually rewarded by a soft beep, indicating that a signal was being sent to the Alliance.  
Suddenly, the entire relay came back online - there must have been a remote control on the auxiliary relay. "Who the hell is this?" demanded an Alliance operator. "Are you kids playing with the comm tower again?"  
He heard movement upstairs. "This is Johto Station, on Mindoir," said Jordan quickly. "The entire town is gone, the colony's being attacked by four-eyed aliens. Send help, something, anything!" Someone was trying to open the door.  
"Is this a joke?" said the operator suspiciously.  
"They bombed my mom's office!" Jordan hissed. He wanted to yell, but he knew he still needed to escape. He picked up Venn's tools, started digging through the bag. "The whole outpost here is gone, do you understand? Everything is on fire, this is the only tower standing. I don't - I don't even know if anyone else is alive. Just send someone, send someone here. You have to stop them!"  
Jordan grabbed what he could, hit the service door so that it was ajar, and took cover after setting up the door.  
Feet clattered down the rickety metal stairs, an oddly inhuman rhythm. "This tower is transmitting!" growled the one in the lead. "See to it that Erk is punished severely for this failure."  
Jordan smiled to himself as the leader tripped over the missing stairs with a hoarse scream.  
"Those are Batarians," said the Alliance operator in shock. "Captain, we have a situation on Mindoir!"  
The leader, his leg twisted beneath him, roared in anger and fired at the relay terminal. Sparks flew, and the lights went out. The leader groaned in pain, and demanded medical attention before sending the rest of the aliens with him through the service tunnel door. "They must have gone that way! Find whatever Human did this, and bring it back alive."  
Two of the aliens ran to the door, and Jordan shrank further into the corner where he was hiding behind a crate.  
The first one opened the door, knocking the pin loose from the grenade. The explosion hurled them backwards, and one was literally impaled on the handrail. The fire alarm went off, and the fire suppression system activated. Smoke filled the room from the chemical mix, and Jordan used the cover to make it to the access tunnel door. He left another trap at the grate in case any of them had survived and tried to come out this way.  
The alien who had been smoking a cigarette ran to the front door. Jordan could see the trails of smoke from him as he ran. As soon as he was inside, Jordan broke for the cover of the stand of trees nearby. He waited, to see what they would do next. The surviving Batarians were carrying their leader to the shuttle, presumably for medical attention. They clambered into the shuttle and flew away. They hadn't noticed anything wrong.  
Jordan grinned to himself. He climbed the tree, then went over the branch so he could drop down on the other side. He carefully searched the horizon for any signs of life before leaving cover of the tree. He heard the shuttle coming back. Jordan dropped into the road and began running as fast as he could. The shuttle's sensors picked him up, and started after him. He heard their guns warming up, and redoubled his efforts to get out of range before they fired.  
The guns sputtered, then overloaded, and the entire shuttle shook, then plummeted like a stone as the engines cut out. Jordan kept running, and hoped none of the debris would hit him. The crash was stunning, and nearly knocked him from his feet. He rolled with it, and continued running back to where he had left his bike.  
He headed back for the cave as quickly as he could. The Batarians were probably more concerned with finding out what had happened at the tower, and to the shuttle. He made it without being seen, and set a few mines at the door just in case before he collapsed on the floor.  
He slept the entire day, and only got up because his body made him. He drank some water and ate one of the energy bars from his bag. Jordan forced himself to walk upstairs and take a look. He didn't stand this time, on the off chance that the aliens might have tracked him.  
A heavy fog of smoke lay where his home town had been. The taller buildings were all tilted crazily. Smoke was still pouring out of the factories. The fields were all black and still. There were only a few minutes left before the sun set completely.  
He heard a noise, a sharp scream of something cutting through the atmosphere. Jordan looked up. A pair of Alliance frigates came in, full speed. They shot down any alien fighters that tried to take off, and took out the hastily constructed turrets. One frigate circled, dropped off some ground troops. Jordan watched, calculated that they would land in Farden's Field, just outside the original Alliance outpost. He ran back to his bike, checked it for any damage again, and then took off to go meet them. He went silently for most of the way, and stayed in cover when he could. He didn't want to bring any unwanted guests if he didn't have to.  
When he thought he was in range of their sensors, he stopped, and switched the bike back into normal so they would hear him coming and be able to identify him. He approached the drop point, was waved in by sentries. They pointed him to a tall woman who was in command.  
Jordan brought his bike to a stop, and pulled off his helmet.  
"You're just a kid!" she blurted out.  
Jordan nodded, unable to say anything for a moment. He felt overwhelmed. Swallowed nervously. "I'm from here, I can tell you anything you need to know about the area."  
"I'm Lieutenant Wills, SSV Reading. You were the one who called us, right? You're alone?"  
Jordan nodded again.  
She shook her head. "I - what's your name, kid?"  
"Jordan Shepard."  
One of the other officers nearby started at the name. "Venn's little brother?"  
Jordan nodded, unable to speak.  
"Jordan, I have to get you off this planet. We've got this situation under control, for now. I appreciate the offer," she said gently, "but we need to get you somewhere safe."  
"But I -" he wanted to help. He couldn't concentrate for some reason, and was trying not to cry in front of all these officers. He didn't want to look up, didn't want to see the mangled landscape behind them.  
"You need sleep, Jordan. When was the last time you ate?"  
"I - I had - " he slumped on the seat of the bike, swayed a little. Someone picked him up, and carried him away. He couldn't think, he just knew that he was safe. And that everyone else was gone. They hadn't said anything, but the way they had all looked at him. He knew.  
When he woke up, the first thing he saw was his guitar case lying next to him. He sat up a little, and saw his backpack on a chair in the unfamiliar room. The hum of machinery was everywhere, and the air tasted strange and recycled.  
He was alone.  
Jordan put his face in his hands, and cried.


	3. Academy, First Day

"You'll do fine, Jordan." The counselor smiled reassuringly.  
"So you can't change it? I just don't want everyone to point at me, 'that kid from Mindoir.'"  
"No, we can't change it," said the counselor carefully. "You'll just have to find some way to deal with it."  
Jordan thanked the counselor, and walked out of the administration office. He had thirty minutes before the first instruction session started. He decided to take the counselor's comments at face value, and picked up his new omni-tool. He finished making his changes in about twenty minutes, and had to run across campus to his first session, basic skills assessment.  
Jordan found a seat near the front of the room. It was a huge lecture hall, filled with new students from all over Human space.  
"Welcome, first year students," said the instructor. "This class is meant to help you figure out your strengths and weaknesses. We'll be working in small groups, so don't expect to meet here every day. My name is - "  
Another professor, an old wizened man hunched by years in front of terminals entered the room and interrupted the BSA instructor. "Is there a Jordan Shepard in here?"  
Jordan winced, and stood up. "Sir."  
"You're in the wrong class," said the old man sharply. "Room 218, Central Hall."  
"Sir?" Jordan asked in confusion. There were no first-year classes in Central.  
The old man smiled. "Integrated Computer Security. Any student who spends his first day hacking the Academy records system belongs in my department. Move it."  
Jordan blushed, but wasn't going to argue the opportunity. The other students stared at him as he left.  
The rest of Jordan's day followed the same pattern. He got tossed out of all his basic classes, and thrown into advanced ones after one or two questions. Instead of being 'that kid from Mindoir,' he found himself marked as the newest Academy prodigy. He also suspected every single one of his professors knew that he wasn't really from Ravinia II.  
"Does this happen a lot?" Jordan asked a third year student. He was in a Tactics and Survival class after being tossed out of Introduction to World History for knowing about and being able to explain the impact of President Rodham on the development of the UNAS and the Alliance.  
"Not usually on the first day," the other student admitted. "But that's how they do sorting at the Academy. Everyone starts at the bottom, and if you stand out, then they throw you into harder classes to see if you fail."  
"Cream rises to the top," added Bettencourt, a second-year Spacer. "Shit sinks back to the bottom." He'd already made it clear which way he hoped Jordan would go.  
Jordan ignored him. Most Spacer kids were rich and arrogant, and Bettencourt was no exception. Most of the Colonists tended to stick together, but there weren't many of them in the advanced classes. Every class that he had been in so far, someone from one of the Colonies had come up to him and introduced themselves. They were all fourth or fifth years, and far from feeling jealous, they were all proud of him, as if he was a new little brother.  
His last class of the day was basic weapons training. At least here, Jordan thought, I won't get kicked up. He was only an average shot and had never handled anything larger than Venn's pistols. He looked around, scanned the room.  
"Welcome to the firing range." The instructor looked down at his datapad. "I see we have someone on the leadership track. Shepard."  
"Yes, sir?" Jordan tried not to cringe. He hoped he wouldn't be asked to parade his shooting skills.  
"How many people are in this room?"  
"Seventy-one," he answered without thinking.  
The instructor grinned. "You're in the wrong class. Up the stairs and to the right, IFT and Sniping."  
Jordan sighed. Everyone stared at him as he left again. He wondered what IFT stood for.


	4. Academy Life

"We should start a band."  
"We would pick up so many chicks."  
Jordan laughed, and continued playing without answering his friends.  
"I'll do bass, Max can do keyboards. We can get some random dip to do drums."  
"Has to be another colonist, though," said Max. "I am not going to put up with any more fucking spacers than I have to."  
"Do it, Jordan. You write the lyrics, and the girls will fall into our laps, just like that." Hesse snapped his fingers in demonstration.  
Jordan shook his head. "Do you guys ever think of anything besides picking up chicks?"  
"Hey, we can't all be you, Mr. Tragic Sensitive Hero."  
It was a testament to Human nature that Jordan could laugh at that. The wounds had healed, slowly, and the scars were fading. But youth and Human memory meant that the nightmares were less intense, and the memories less real. It had taken three months for someone to find out where Jordan was really from, and spread it around the school. But by now, Jordan had learned to live with it. His course load didn't leave him much time to be miserable and sad.  
"You're an ass," said Jordan to his friend Hesse. "And I really don't want a fourth person."  
"That's cool," Hesse grinned. "We can figure that out later."  
Max and Hesse were both from Caleston, the children of miners who had made enough to send their children to decent schools. Hesse wanted to be an Engineer, and Max was trying to get into the Diplomatic service. Max had become friends with him through sheer perseverance, and was one of the few people at the Academy who had known he was really from Mindoir before Bettencourt's exposure. Hesse had met Jordan at the guitar store, and had gone into ecstasies over meeting the owner of a Gibson SG Custom.  
"We should do this," said Hesse eagerly. "We should totally do this."  
"There is a recording studio on campus," Max pointed out.  
"Fine, whatever." Jordan stood up. "Let's go check it out."  
"Yes!" Hesse fistbumped Max, and picked up his bass. "Stardom awaits!"  
They worked for months, spending every spare moment on their album. The Academy studio let them release an OSD and tracks for direct download on the school network. Jordan wrote five songs and two instrumentals for their first release, and Max made up their band names: Hesse G, Jordan T, and Maxie B. They toasted each other with sparkling cider and walked out of the studio, laughing, after they had pushed the button to release their music to the school.  
"So, how long before the girls start falling into our laps?" grinned Hesse.  
Jordan's omni-tool beeped. "Mail, one sec. Probably my Calculus TA." Jordan opened the message. It was from the studio. The school insisted on a forwarding account to be set up for all artists, to protect students and their grade point averages. "What the...."  
Max's omni-tool beeped, then Hesse's.  
"We just got paid," said Jordan in disbelief. He looked at his friends. "That means we sold over 10,000 copies."  
"We left the studio ten minutes ago," said Max. He stared at the message. "Wait, there's an Asari name here, that's not in the school network."  
"Let's go back and check this out." Jordan led them back into the studio so they could check their release account. He pulled up their records, and tried to figure out what had happened.  
"Guys." Hesse stared at them. "The restriction flag is changed. That means anyone could have sent it off the network."  
"Yeah but, people bought it?" Max asked. "Look, this is a Turian name. Why would a Turian buy our music?"  
Jordan stared at the screen, and pulled up his omni-tool to do a search on the band name. "They like our lyrics. Turians are buying the OSD so they get the liner notes. The Asari like the instrumentals, and think 'the technical proficiency displayed in our playing is amazing.' Apparently, one of the riffs I used sounds just like a traditional Siarist prayer."  
"What?" Max leaned over and stared at the page. "What the hell, there's over a million hits!"  
They all stared at each other, then started laughing.  
"They want pictures of us," Hesse read.  
"We can't, that's against the rules." Jordan considered. "I want to find out who sent our stuff off the network. I think someone's in for a big surprise."  
Hesse and Max looked at each other. "Actually, you're right. This is too good of a chance to pass up," Max grinned. "So we're not going to say anything, right?"  
Jordan nodded. "Not until he does anyway. I guess you're not up for taking bets that Bettencourt is behind this?"  
Hesse snorted. "I'm not that stupid."  
They didn't hear anything until the evening meal at the dining hall. One of the Spacer clique saw them, and approached.  
"Hey guys. Not in the recording studio tonight?" asked the girl, fake sweetness dripping.  
"Nope," said Max. "All wrapped up and sent out. You should give it a listen," he said innocently.  
Jordan just watched Max work. Some of the other colonists had come a little closer, sensing that something odd was going on.  
The Spacer girl smiled. "I don't think you guys are quite my speed. What's your band name anyway?" she asked curiously.  
"Oh? You guys didn't read the name? Just hacked the account without checking?"  
"Well, if you didn't want people to hear your music, you shouldn't have released it. What's the big deal? Didn't anybody like your little songs?" she asked condescendingly.  
"It's doing all right," said Max defensively. "I hear track 3 was really popular."  
Jordan couldn't hold back a laugh.  
"What's track 3?" asked one of their Colonist friends.  
"'Spacer Girls,'" Jordan explained.  
There was a moment of silence.  
"Wait, you guys are Colony 3?"  
Max just smiled.  
Hesse shook his head. "Okay, how can you all have heard this already? Did you skip class or something?"  
"It was linked on a Siarist mailing list I'm on," someone said. "I had no idea it was an Academy group!"  
"I heard about it from my brother on Noveria," said someone else.  
"Is this some kind of joke?" People were staring at the boys in disbelief. "Do you really expect us to believe you put out that album?"  
Max pointed at Jordan. "Shepard, you wanna field this one?"  
Jordan glared at Max. "No." Then he looked at the person who didn't believe them. "Did you really think I was carrying around that expensive guitar for nothing? My choices for school were here or Julliard. And for the record, I don't even know what a Siarist prayer is, so I have no idea where everyone is getting that from."  
"Where did you learn to play like that?" asked someone admiringly.  
"My grandparents are from Ravinia II. The musician's retirement colony? You might have heard of it?" Jordan looked around. Everyone was hanging on his words. "I spent half my life on Ravinia II. You can't spend that much time there and not pick up something."  
"Did you really write all the lyrics?" someone else asked. "And the music?"  
Jordan nodded. "They're not going to go away, are they?" he asked Max.  
Max just grinned. "Sorry, bud. You're famous. Suck it up." Max turned and started talking to a cute Earth girl, leaving Jordan to fend for himself in the circle of excited admirers.  
Jordan finally managed to eat some food and leave the dining hall without a crowd of people following him everywhere. He sighed. Max and Hesse had both hooked up and left earlier, probably assuming that Jordan would be well-escorted. Jordan had chased them all away, and instead started back alone. He was waiting for a specific person to talk to him.  
Jordan heard footsteps behind him, and grinned. "Took you long enough, Bettencourt." Jordan turned to face him. "Thanks for making us rich and famous, by the way."  
"Not what I intended to do," said Bettencourt. "But you're welcome."  
The walkway where they were standing was shadowed, and Jordan couldn't see his face. "Bettencourt, what do you have against me anyway?" Jordan asked. "You've been on my case ever since I started here. What the hell do you want from me?"  
Bettencourt took a step closer, clearly holding himself back. He just stared, his eyes flickering over Jordan's face, without saying a word. He started to say something, but stopped himself. "Forget it, Shepard. If I have to explain...." Bettencourt turned and walked away.  
"What?" Jordan said to himself. "I don't - what just happened?" Jordan looked around in confusion. No one had witnessed the bizarre confrontation, so it wasn't that Bettencourt didn't want to get caught fighting. "I think I missed something. And I need to stop talking to myself," Jordan added. He shook himself, and walked back to his dorm.


	5. Elysium Revels

Jordan walked around the rear of the auditorium, checking the sound levels.  
"Excuse me," said a nervous voice. A young Asari, wearing a band T-shirt, touched Jordan's arm. "Are you with the band?"  
Jordan grinned. It never failed to amuse him that no one recognized him when he was offstage. "Yeah, I'm checking the acoustics." He looked curiously at her.  
The Asari bit her lower lip nervously. "Do you know... are they staying here after the concert?"  
"Yeah, they're supposed to be doing some promotional stuff for Elysium's tourism board tomorrow. Down at the south Mall."  
"Uh... do you get to talk to them? Like, if I gave you a message, would you pass it on to them?"  
He could tell that she was serious, and far in the back of his mind he could hear a soft whisper of warning. "I will, what is this about anyway?"  
She shook her head nervously, and handed him a tiny fandisc. "Could you give that to Jordan T? Tonight? Please, it's really important."  
"Sure," he promised. "I'll make sure he takes a look at it."  
"But after the concert!" she exclaimed. "I don't want him to read it until after the concert."  
"Okay."  
"Thanks," she said gratefully. "I've gotta go, my dad will kill me if I miss the shuttle."  
"You're not going to be at the concert tonight?"  
She shook her head. "I gotta go, thanks again!"  
Jordan watched her leave, and entered the data into his omni-tool, along with a note to review it after the concert. It was a fan letter, as he had suspected. Since she was going to meet her father, he figured it wasn't a note threatening suicide, so he left it for later.  
He finished the checks, and walked back to the stage. His grandfather, a seasoned conductor, had drilled the importance of personally checking the acoustics of every venue before a performance. Jordan checked the amplifiers and the sound system hookups, and saw how pleased the stagehands were at his competence and interest.  
Finally, everything was ready. The crowd was still taking their seats, and had been watching people on stage scurry back and forth with curiosity.  
It wasn't until his assistant brought out the black Gibson, with the name "Mei" written on it in old Earth characters, that they realized who he was. Jordan blushed, and pulled the strap over his head while the crowd erupted in cheers. He pulled off his baseball cap, and handed it to his assistant.  
Hesse and Max joined him on stage. "Ready to go?" They nodded, and Jordan walked up to the mic. "Hey there." He waited until they quieted down. "Welcome to Elysium's Martin Auditorium! We're going to start off with something for our Turian fans, it's off the new release. It's called 'Spirits of the Song,' it's a little different, we hope you like it."  
Hesse and Max were standing next to him, and all three started singing the a capella piece that Jordan had written for the fans who liked his lyrics more than his music. It was a bittersweet song, about life, passing by in front of someone who wasn't connected to anything at the moment and would never see any of these scenes again. Since there was no music beyond their voices, Jordan could basically tell the story any way he wanted to. A back and forth between Max and Hesse in the middle, a solo for each of them, a vocal challenge that all of them had really enjoyed practicing. The crowd was transfixed, silent, not wanting to miss a single word. Max's solo ended, and they stepped back, took a bow to wild cheers and applause.  
The rest of the set was just as good. They performed all their original songs, except the instrumental tracks, and some new songs that Jordan had written last year. When they announced at the end that the band was breaking up, there was shocked silence. Jordan didn't explain their reasoning, that all three friends felt that military service was more important than just being famous. "We'll miss you all, keep writing us. We'll still get your messages." Jordan looked at Max and Hesse. "And just so you don't forget us, we're going to close with an old favorite - just remember, we wrote this when we were young and stupid. Of course we know that Spacer girls aren't really like this."  
"They're worse!" shouted Max, and everyone laughed.  
The bouncy, silly song let them leave on an upbeat note. Jordan shook hands, stamped datapads, and hugged excited fans until his omni-tool beeped. He excused himself, left Max and Hesse to do all the flirting, and retreated to his dressing room. The alarm was to remind him to read the letter from the young Asari.  
"Dear Jordan T," the letter began, "I hope you believe what I'm going to tell you. I'm a Siarist, and even though you refuse to admit it, I think that you are too. At least, you understand that the whole universe is connected. Your music proves that. My father is a Batarian, and he works with some really bad people. They have this plan, they're going to attack Elysium tomorrow. They've got this whole thing worked out, and they won't stop anyone from leaving tonight, but no one will be able to get past their blockade to help. I'm telling you this because I want you to leave and keep making music, but now that I've written this, I realize you're probably not going to leave, are you? You're going to stay and try to fight. Because that's what you do, isn't it? I know we'll never meet, and I hope you survive the attack and make more music. But whatever happens, I'm sure that we'll meet somewhere on the other side of Eternity." Jordan recognized the last line. It was from 'Eternity in your eyes,' one of their songs that was ridiculously popular with Asari. He could feel the truth in every word that she had written. The soft whisper of danger in the back of his mind was louder now.  
Jordan tried to think. He couldn't warn anyone, not if they already had a blockade, and not without endangering her life. He left the auditorium, and walked quickly back to the hotel where they were staying. There was something that he hadn't told Max and Hesse yet, the real reason he had decided to continue with the Alliance. Jordan opened his bags and pulled out his armor and started pulling it on.  
Jordan started planning out attack patterns in his head. They knew that some Alliance military officers would be on Elysium; the outpost would probably be one of the first places they would strike. A well-timed attack there would probably cripple resistance among the survivors. No doubt they were expecting some resistance.  
But they weren't expecting an N7 Infiltrator.  
He picked up his sniper rifle, checked the clip on his pistol. Jordan looked out the window, making sure he was still in shadow. The sun was setting. He couldn't stop himself from grinning at the memory of another sunset. Everything was so different now. This time, he wasn't too young to fight.


	6. Extant Taxon

The voices in his head were talking to the voices from the beacon. Jordan really wished they could have this conversation somewhere else. Like, in someone else's body. "One must be saved." He really wanted to respond that what they were saying didn't make any sense, and that if they didn't stop trying to fill his mind with visions, he was going to die. "We must warn." The images flashed, brighter and harder than anything he had ever seen before. The energy flooded his body. The warning was being hammered into his skull. "You must hear us."  
Giant machines, machines that breathed. Machines that needed organic life, in quantities unimaginable. A cycle, endless, warped, repeating. "They are coming."  
The beacon exploded, and all Jordan could feel relief that it was over at last.  
Jordan sat up, shaking off the nightmare. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep since Eden Prime. Suddenly getting command of the Normandy and a crew that he barely knew in a crazy mission to save the universe probably wasn't helping with his stress levels. The aliens were also a weird, jarring feature of his new life.  
The Quarian girl was nicest, but that was probably because they were both interested in the same things. Who wouldn't like a girl who could assemble a utility mech from scratch, and then write all the code for it? He had to admit, the mask did creep him out a little. What if she had a horrible alien face under there? Jordan laughed at himself.  
Garrus, the Turian, was apparently the younger brother Jordan never had, while Wrex was his undiscovered, very large, perpetually angry uncle, in Krogan form. Jordan shook his head, and again admitted that Siarists were closer to the truth about the Universe than any other religion or philosophy he had ever encountered. He wondered what Matriarch Benezia's daughter would be like.  
Alenko was the first biotic Jordan had ever worked with. For some reason, Alenko made him think of Mei. They had the same expressive eyes, large and dark. He moved the same way, sometimes - a slow, learned grace. And the migraines. Jordan hated seeing Alenko flinch at the first symptoms.  
Williams was the type of girl he knew far too much about. Colonist, soldier, chip on her shoulder. Fast make-out sessions behind the lockers, and refused to go any further. Didn't trust aliens, didn't like Spacers, believed her colony was the best Humanity had to offer. The fact that she was probably right didn't make it any less annoying.  
Jordan decided to go check on the crew, see how everyone was doing, before they reached Artemis Tau. He walked out of the captain's cabin - he still didn't feel like it was his. Third shift crew was having a meal, greeted him. No new gossip.  
Jordan walked past the monitoring station. "Hello, Lieutenant. Anything new?"  
"No, Commander."  
He nodded to Alenko, and started to walk away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alenko press a hand to his eyes, and inhale sharply. "Are you all right, Lieutenant?"  
"Yes, sir, I'm fine."  
Jordan raised an eyebrow, letting Alenko know he saw through the blatant lie. "If you're not feeling well, Lieutenant, you can lie down in the captain's cabin. It's the only area on the ship with self-controlled lights and temperature, so you can mess with the settings and get comfortable."  
Alenko looked at him in surprise, and a little nervously. "I - I don't want to be any trouble, Commander."  
Jordan shrugged. "I'm going to be out and about for a few hours, anyway. My shift will go a lot easier if I'm not worrying about the status of my crew." Jordan headed towards the stairs. "If you like, I can order you."  
"That won't be necessary, Commander. Thank you," said Alenko gratefully.  
The thing Jordan hated most about being in command was all the walking. He walked up to the cockpit, talked a bit with Joker. "Can we rename you Sarcastic? How about Sarkasmo? Everyone loves classical allusions."  
"Don't you have any real work to do, Shepard?"  
The CIC was also running smoothly. "Pressly, break something so I'll have something to do."  
"Commander, why don't you go play with the Mako some more? I'm sure Williams will appreciate that."  
"Is that a crack on my driving, Pressly? Because if it is, well, I probably deserve it. But I'd like to see you steer something that goes 160 kilometers per hour. When braking."  
"Tell you what, Commander. I'll drive the Mako, and you plot the next course jump. How's your grasp on multivariate hypercalculus?"  
Jordan just stared. "That's not even a real word, Pressly."  
"It's shorthand for finding needles in haystacks. Really large haystacks that move. With variables that change depending on the hour."  
The little blond navigator giggled at the look on Jordan's face.  
"I'll just be going now." Jordan beat a fast retreat before the other navigators had hysterics and started yelling random math problems and their answers again.  
He went down to the Engineering level, and actually ran into Williams as he stepped out of the elevator.  
"Hello, there," he grinned. "What have you been up to?" He wondered if Williams had time for a few minutes of R&R.  
"I was just getting a snack," Williams explained. "Why is Alenko in your room?"  
"I told him to go lie down. He wasn't feeling well. Why do you even know about that?"  
Williams shrugged. "I saw him walking in while I was at the Mess. You know how bad that looks, right?"  
"If you're the kind of person who thinks that way, sure. I was standing right in the open when I made the offer," said Jordan, trying not to lose his patience.  
"Yeah, Chun mentioned how nice you are. But you do know that Alenko's a bit off, right?"  
"No," said Jordan sharply. "I have no idea what you're talking about, and I don't care." Narrow-minded Colonist, he had always hated the stereotype, and here Williams was doing everything she could to live up to it.  
"I'm just concerned about your reputation, Commander."  
"Thank you for your concern, Williams. I'll continue to see to the needs of my crew as I see fit."  
"Of course, Commander," said Williams coldly. "If you'll excuse me, I need to finish maintenance on those assault rifles." Williams turned and walked back to her station.  
Jordan smacked himself as soon as she was out of sight. "I probably could have handled that better." He sighed. "And I really need to stop talking to myself."  
"Commander," Joker said over the intercom. "We're approaching Artemis Tau."  
"Heading back to the CIC."  
"How many times do you suppose someone tried to rename it the Combat and Operations Command Kiosk?"  
Jordan laughed. "That was really bad, Joker."  
The mission on Therum was something Jordan would always remember. He had once tried to explain to Wrex why there were so many boxes of cereal in the Mess. "We like surprises," he had said. "Humans are strange that way." The fun of pouring yourself a bowl of cereal and finding a pointless, cheap toy. The fun of fighting through waves of mindless Geth, skill and speed paramount, hacking a mining laser and using it to blast away ancient Prothean technology, and then… having a beautiful Asari literally fall into your arms. "We like surprises."  
He stared at her for a moment, tried to remember how to breathe. "You must be Dr. T'Soni."


	7. Camaraderie and Obscurity

Jordan watched Liara and Kaidan talking at the bar, while he sat down at Maxie's table. He wondered what they were talking about. Watching them together was incredibly distracting, and he never knew what he was really thinking at those moments.  
Kaidan laughed, touched Liara's arm, and Liara smiled back at him. Jordan wasn't sure if he was jealous, or hungry, or intrigued. Or by which one. Or both – if that was even possible, he asked himself, wondering.  
"Jordan. Wake up, man, I need your help."  
"What?" Jordan turned back to Maxie, who was holding out an OSD. "What do you need from me, Mr. Diplomat Guy?" Jordan took the OSD and uploaded it to his omni-tool.  
"I need lyrics."  
Jordan grinned. "What is this?" He put in one of his earphones, and started playing the song that Maxie had handed him.  
"I'm trying to get into a pair of pants. She likes this style, so I whipped up a good beat and some rhythm, you know how I do. But I can't do lyrics for shit, not the kind that will get me into her pants."  
"I'm not really in a pants mood, Maxie," said Jordan. The song was good though, and it would be fun to play. His mind was filling in the missing notes, and his hands itched to hold his pen and notebook.  
"Get in one!" urged Maxie. "I need this, Jordan! You can do it! C'mon, there's got to be someone here whose pants you haven't been in already."  
Jordan laughed. "I don't sleep around with my crew."  
"Then you're an idiot. Isn't that one of the perks of being in command? Just don't be an ass about it."  
"Seriously, Maxie, is picking up chicks all you ever think about?"  
"Yes! Pants. Now."  
"Shepard? Your drink."  
Jordan looked up in shock, almost dropped the OSD. "What?"  
Kaidan smiled. "You ordered a drink, but never came back for it. I had Doran make you a new one." He handed the fizzy drink to Jordan. "Here you go."  
"Thank you. I totally forgot about it," Jordan confessed.  
"Anytime, Shepard." He looked curiously at Jordan's companion.  
Jordan suddenly remembered his manners. "Consular Secretary Binh Rossolovich, Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, SSV Normandy." They shook hands. "Sorry, I'm a little distracted."  
"I'm blackmailing him," said Maxie cheerfully. "Hey, Alenko, could you do me a huge favor?" Maxie smiled, in his most convincing and friendly fashion.  
"Sure," Kaidan replied.  
"Could you ask Doran to make me another drink? He knows what I want. Oh, and tell him to put all the Normandy's drinks on my tab."  
"Sure," said Kaidan happily, and walked back to the bar to let everyone know they were being treated by the Commander's friend.  
"What are you doing?"  
"I'm helping," Maxie grinned. "I gotta say, if I was going to cross borders, that's what I would go for."  
"What?"  
"You have good taste, that's all I'm saying." Maxie grinned at Jordan, who was blushing bright red. "What?"  
"I'm not – there isn't – I really hate you...." Jordan gave up and went back to listening to the song, trying to ignore Maxie's constant grinning.  
"I thought you were interested in that hot Asari chick, though. I was having trouble telling who you were staring at over there."  
Jordan didn't answer.  
"Or were you staring at both of them?"  
"Maxie! Will you just stop?"  
"Pants."  
Jordan blushed again, and decided to stop giving Maxie more ammunition.  
"He fills them well."  
"Shut up."  
"So does she!"  
"Maxie!"  
Kaidan came back with Maxie's drink, and much to Jordan's consternation, Maxie kept him standing at the table for a minute with some random small talk. Jordan made some notes on his datapad and ignored them both. Kaidan walked back over to Liara, after giving Jordan a curious look.  
Maxie leaned back in his chair. "I've never seen you act like that before. You didn't even try to hit on him."  
Jordan muttered something about time and place, and how this wasn't it.  
"Bullshit," smiled Maxie. He was secretly delighted to see his friend genuinely interested in someone. "Jordan's got a crush, Jordan's got a crush," Maxie chanted in his most obnoxious singsong voice, as quietly as he could, but couldn't resist doing a little dance in his chair.  
Jordan threw a straw at him. "Knock it off! You're so immature!"  
"Keep it up and I won't tell you what they were talking about."  
Jordan glared at Maxie. "You have no idea what they were talking about, you jerk."  
Maxie smiled. "Eavesdropping is my job, Jordan, just like shooting people in the head is yours. Although, in this case it was really easy and even a first-year would have been able to figure it out. If they were paying any attention, and not just staring at a complementary pair of finely shaped asses."  
"Maxie."  
"They were talking about you, idiot." Maxie leaned back in his chair and sipped at his drink. "What was that about not sleeping around with your crew?"  
"That's it. I'm going back to my ship."  
"Don't forget my song!"  
"I'll see you later, Maxie." Jordan pocketed the OSD and walked out of the bar.


	8. Kalendae

The sense of danger grew; the voices were incessant but incoherent now. "Wait here, I'm going to check this out." Jordan opened the door and entered the final chamber of the mine. He saw the probe lying at the side of the room, under a pair of staging lights, but there was no other sign of whoever had brought the probe down here. He cautiously walked closer, and too late noticed the plate on the floor. The door slammed shut, cutting him off from Garrus and Kaidan.  
"Shepard," said a voice from behind him.  
Jordan turned to the projection. Radio, not recorded. He vaguely listened to the man introduce himself, and his evil plans. Jordan tried to keep him talking while he worked to get the door open.  
"You ruined my life, Shepard," Haliat droned. "I'd repay the favor, but I just want you dead. You're not going to be able to get the door open in time, and it won't do you any good anyway."  
Jordan looked back at the probe, and realized that Haliat was right.  
"Don't worry, I'll take good care of your men while you're gone," Haliat laughed, and cut communications. The timer started counting down, and Jordan dove for the probe, started working feverishly.  
"Hold still, Turian," snarled the slaver, slapping Garrus in his face to make his point. Obviously, these Humans had dealt with Turian prisoners before, because they hit him in the right spot and made his head sing. The slaver used the butt of his gun to hit Garrus in the midsection, forcing him to his knees. "Cuff him, quick."  
Garrus struggled, but they hit him again, wrestled his arms behind him, and managed to get the restraints on before he could make an effectual attempt to escape. They then chained his hands to his legs, proving that they knew way too much about keeping a Turian prisoner. Garrus snarled in fury.  
In the corner of the room, another slaver was injecting Kaidan with something, probably a biotic suppressant, so they wouldn't have a repeat display of Kaidan's abilities. Kaidan stirred slightly, but didn't wake up.  
"We should just drop him down a shaft," snarled the Batarian, nursing a shattered arm. "We can't sell a biotic."  
"Malikos will want him, at least until the drugs wear off," said a Human calmly.  
The Batarian sneered. "Disgusting."  
"What is?" A Turian entered the room, a tall, barefaced, sleek Turian with strangely sharp eyes.  
"We found you a new toy," said the Human who was working on Kaidan. He propped Kaidan up against the wall so that the Turian could see him. "Just be careful with him, he'll be dangerous when the Tetorgen wears off."  
The Turian tilted his head, and considered Kaidan carefully. "I'll be done by then."  
Garrus couldn't stop himself from growling with rage.  
Malikos turned towards the captive with a dark, cruel laugh. "A Human for me, and a Turian for you. How fortuitous." The Turian crossed the room, and picked Kaidan up, tossed him over his shoulder. "Thank you for the present." He smiled at Garrus. "Have fun with your toy." The Turian slaver walked out without another glance at Garrus.  
A shock rippled through the room, and a loud boom sounded in the distance. "That's the end of Shepard," chuckled the Batarian, and walked out to get his arm seen to.  
Garrus stiffened with rage and disbelief. It couldn't be true; there was no way that Shepard could have fallen into a fatal trap so easily. He looked despairingly at the door where the slaver had left with Kaidan. Not like this, Shepard would never have died and left them like this.  
Kaidan woke up slowly, groggily. He felt like his head was wrapped in wet cotton. The room was dark, and cold. He was hanging on a wall, his hands chained over his head, and his feet chained together. Kaidan tried to move, causing his restraints to rattle with an ugly, heavy sound.  
"You're awake," said a strange Turian voice. He sounded pleased. "My name is Malikos. Remember it, and be sure to use it when you decide to start begging."  
Kaidan didn't respond.  
"Strong-willed," Malikos ran his hand along Kaidan's body, careful not to rip the Human flesh with his talons, but ripping his shirt to shreds and leaving dark welts on his skin. "I like the feel of Humans, so soft and warm. But what I like best," Kaidan started in surprise as he felt the Turian's tongue on his neck, going up the side of his face, drinking in his sweat, "is the way you taste. No other species puts their emotions on their skin the way you do. I can taste your fear, your shame...." Kaidan cringed as the Turian's teeth dug into his shoulder, stopping just short of breaking skin. Malikos laughed, forced Kaidan's legs apart with his hand. "Are you enjoying the Tetorgen, Human? People would pay thousands for as much as we had to use to keep you still."  
Kaidan turned his head away, and tried to think of anything but the monster touching him.  
"You're fighting," Malikos laughed. "Why do you Humans always fight? Your bodies are built to submit to violation. You're going to respond to me whether you want to or not." He laughed and licked Kaidan's neck again, the thick alien tongue sliding under his shirt to touch the bruises left by his teeth. "Delicious."  
Kaidan flinched, and couldn't stop himself from making a small noise as his body began to respond. The drug was eating away at his self-control. He couldn't focus enough to use his biotics, and everything had a weird extra sensation to it, as if he were floating underwater. He writhed at the chains, trying to get enough purchase to force them to dig into his skin, give him something else to think about.  
"You're not going to get loose that way." The Turian tilted Kaidan's head up and away from him, exposing his neck. "You'll have to think of something else." He bent down, and Kaidan felt the sharp teeth just touching his skin.  
The door rattled.  
Malikos snarled. "Savages, have they no manners?" He stalked over to the door, and opened it. For a second his outline was perfectly framed in the light. "What do you - "  
The silenced shot was still loud in Kaidan's ears, and he realized the sniper was over his head somewhere. The Turian crumpled, and someone jumped down and ran to the door. Slammed it shut before anyone could see. Fumbled for the lights, got them on.  
"Shepard!"  
Jordan was covered in dirt, and looked like he had rolled down the side of a mountain. "Are you all right?"  
Kaidan nodded. "I'm fine, just tripping. A lot."  
Jordan stripped the sheets off the bed and used them to wrap what was left of the Turian's head, so that the blood wouldn't seep under the door. He found a keycard on the body, and used it to release Kaidan and helped him down.  
"No, not the bed," mumbled Kaidan in sudden terror of what could have been. "Just the floor, floor is fine." He sagged against the wall, felt like a poorly stuffed toy, very floppy. "Not enough polyfill."  
"What?"  
"Nothing. Tripping, sorry. I'm not... I can't do anything at the moment. I'm sorry."  
"No, no, it's alright. I'm the one who should be apologizing!" Jordan carefully sat Kaidan in the far corner of the room, propping him up with some pillows and a clean blanket that he found in the closet. "I was going to tell you to stay here anyway. I'm going to get Garrus, and bring him here. I'll be right back."  
Kaidan nodded, too grateful and happy to do more. He watched Jordan climb back up the wall, into the ventilation shaft. For a moment, he couldn't believe that Jordan had really been there, but in a very few minutes Jordan was back, helping Garrus limp into the room. "That was fast."  
Jordan grinned. "Making up for lost time. Here, sit next to him." He helped Garrus sit down and then handed him the medkit that he had found. "Okay, you guys stay here. Do not open that door." Jordan calculated in his head. "It will take me about ten minutes to get to the communications room so I can call the Normandy."  
"I thought you were dead, Shepard," said Garrus.  
"Unless you see my body with your own eyes, don't ever believe I'm dead." Jordan took the dead body and left through the door this time. They could hear him setting mines before he ran down the hall, followed by shouts, and then a series of explosions.  
Garrus laughed a little. "Nice trap." He looked nervously at Kaidan. "You all right, Alenko?"  
"A little fuzzy, but I'll be fine. More scared than anything. Here, let me try and get that for you." Garrus' leg looked broken. "They hurt you."  
"Yeah.... I mean, do you want me to move? I don't know, sometimes people get weird."  
It took Kaidan a minute to process Garrus' concern. "What? No, don't be so stupid." He did the best he could with the medigel and Garrus' wounds. "Wasn't even hurt, could have been worse," he mumbled before he could stop himself. "Could have been so much worse."  
"What?"  
"Nothing." His head was swimming from the drugs and the stress. "Drugs. A little fuzzy around the head."  
"Here," Garrus pulled him back before he could topple over, and they leaned against the wall together. Listened for the distinctive noise of a headshot, the sudden explosions of a mine. "He's amazing."  
Kaidan laughed a little shakily. "It was almost worth it for the rescue."  
Garrus laughed as well, "Yeah, I was thinking something like that."


	9. Philia

"Commander, why don't any of these corpses have heads?"  
"High explosive rounds," replied Jordan shortly. He didn't really feel like discussing it, and continued directing the cleanup.  
"But, Commander, none of them have heads. That means you shot every single one of these slavers in the head. With an exploding shell."  
"Pressly, do you have a point?"  
"Well, no, not really. It's just that... they have no heads. It's kind of creepy."  
Jordan glared at Pressly, but didn't respond.  
"And you did it in under ten minutes."  
"Can we please talk about something else?"  
"Commander, I'm standing in front of a waist-high pile of headless bodies. What else am I going to talk about? My mental note never to piss you off?"  
Jordan went back to helping with the cleanup, and tried to ignore Pressly.  
"Hey, Pressly," said Rojas, "here, I found a head for you. Well, part of one, anyway." She gestured towards the gory remains of a slaver that had been killed by a mine.  
"I'm going back to the ship." Jordan walked away, to the amusement of Pressly and Rojas.  
"I think there's a spleen here," observed Pressly. "Are any of the corpses missing a spleen? How did that even get here?"  
Jordan returned to the Normandy, and headed to his cabin to wash himself off. He noted that Kaidan wasn't at the monitoring station, but figured he was still in Medical, recovering from the Tetorgen. The door to the captain's cabin opened, and he was greeted by giggles and a rush of cold air.  
"Hey! Didn't you see the sign?" protested Liara. She was sitting on the couch, with Kaidan's head in her lap. Garrus was lying on the floor, surrounded by pillows, with Ashley lying on his chest.  
"What?" Jordan looked down, and saw that the door was labeled with a 'Shepard Appreciation Society' sign. "What?"  
There were more giggles, and some Turian chuckling. "Okay, you can come in," said Liara.  
"Um...." Jordan had never felt so confused in his life, and he didn't know where to start. "What are you all doing?"  
"We're snuggling and talking about how cool you are, except for me," said Ashley. "I'm playing devil's advocate, and going on about what a self-absorbed jackass you are."  
"Gee, thanks." Jordan looked carefully at Garrus, who had one arm behind his head and the other curved around Ashley as she lay against him. "Um..."  
"Seriously?" said Ashley in disbelief. "You're, like, totally oblivious, aren't you?"  
"Yes," said Jordan sheepishly. "I really am."  
"The answer is yes, and I swear, if you make one joke about xenophilia, I will kick your ass," snarled Ashley.  
Kaidan and Liara laughed.  
"Right," said Jordan nervously.  
Garrus grinned. "Can I make any jokes about shoes?"  
"No."  
Jordan carefully stepped over Garrus and walked to the bathroom so he could change out of his bloodstained clothes.  
"Hey, don't close the door!" called Liara.  
"Yeah, we're watching that." Kaidan grinned.  
"Okay, he's still tripping and Garrus is on painkillers. What excuse do you two have?" snapped Jordan, embarrassed beyond words.  
"We're girls," giggled Liara. "We don't need an excuse to act crazy, do we?"  
"Hormones," said Ashley sagely. "That's my excuse."  
"Also," Liara added, "we had a few drinks. Would you like a beer?"  
"Why are you even in here? Why aren't you guys in Medical?"  
"It's too hot in there," complained Kaidan.  
"And Kaidan wouldn't stop talking," Garrus winced, "and being unnecessarily graphic about drug interactions while Sherman was being sick with influenza."  
Kaidan laughed. "Contraindication and possible concomitant side effects are fascinating! I used to have a little chart for all of mine. It was in color and everything."  
Jordan looked over at Kaidan, who was idly drawing arrows in the air and listing medications.  
"Great, you've set him off again." Garrus sighed.  
"Sorry," Jordan pulled out a beer from the minibar, which had been mysteriously stocked with a collection of Colonial microbrews. "Someone explain the appreciation society sign, please."  
"Oh, that's easy," grinned Ashley. "We've now all officially been saved by Shepard. We invited Tali, but she didn't want to come up."  
"We gave her a badge anyway," Liara explained. "So she wouldn't feel left out." Liara's omni-tool beeped an alarm. "Oh!" She carefully propped Kaidan up on the couch and walked over to the minibar. "Medication time." Jordan moved out of her way so that she could work, and Liara knelt down to start preparing the doses of medication for Kaidan and Garrus.  
Kaidan slipped slightly, and made a little "Wheee!" noise.  
Jordan rushed over to catch him before he fell off the couch. "How much did they give you?" He fumbled slightly from nervousness, and somehow ended up with Kaidan in his lap, Kaidan's head resting on his shoulder.  
"A lot," chuckled Kaidan. "I'm all flopsy!"  
"Right," Jordan nervously took another sip from his beer, and shifted so that he could support Kaidan with his arm. Kaidan turned the beer bottle so that he could read the ingredients and was murmuring things about the chemical composition of hops.  
"Get your boob out of my face!" Ashley wriggled away as Liara leaned over Garrus to administer his medications. Ashley sat down on the couch, moving Kaidan's legs to her lap so that she was sitting right next to Jordan. "Why aren't you two making out yet?"  
"Ashley!" Jordan was genuinely shocked. "I'm not going to take advantage of someone who is practically out of his mind!"  
"Oh," said Ashley, "so if he wasn't tripping right now, you'd be all over him."  
"What?" Jordan turned bright red as he realized what he had just said. "I ... didn't... Why are you.... Don't you have anything better to do?"  
"Nope."  
Kaidan and Ashley were laughing quietly at him, and Jordan just didn't know what to think.  
"He does smell nice," Kaidan observed.  
"I told you!" Ashley grinned.  
Jordan groaned in mock despair, and everyone laughed. This was certainly a lot better than people having nervous breakdowns from traumatic stress, and he figured he would get used to this in time. Kaidan shifted slightly, making himself more comfortable, and gave a quiet sigh of contentment. Some things, Jordan realized, would be very easy to get used to.


	10. Eros Dawn

Jordan was sitting at his desk writing, and barely heard the door open. He finished the line he was composing before he looked up. Kaidan was sitting on the couch, watching him curiously.  
"I just wanted to thank you, for taking care of me the other day. I'm sure I was a bit of a nightmare."  
"It was nothing," Jordan assured him but continued writing.  
"Am I bothering you, Shepard?" he asked politely.  
"Not at all," Jordan confessed. "I probably won't even remember you're here in a few minutes." He looked down at the line he had just worked out, and decided to change a few bars in the middle. His mind played the song as he had written it down, and compared it to what he had meant for it to sound like. He frowned, and went back to the beginning, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong.  
"Is that a pen? And real paper?"  
"Hm? Yeah, I can't write music on a datapad." Jordan stared at the notebook, unable to hear the music properly. Some part of him knew that Kaidan was standing, fascinated, by the desk, watching him write. The rest of him was completely oblivious to Kaidan's presence, and was absorbed in the process of creation, of perfection. Jordan leaned back, opened the closet and pulled out the guitar without taking his eyes away from the notebook. He knew he wasn't going to get this right without hearing it out loud.  
It wasn't until he began to play that he remembered that Kaidan was in the room.  
"That's … that's Mei. You're… Jordan T. How did I not notice that before?"  
Jordan blushed and continued to play, trying to work out the kinks of the new song he was trying to write. As always, having the instrument in his hands made it easier, and he could see where he had written down a mistake. He fixed it, then went back to the beginning and began to play the song all over again. He had again forgotten that anyone else was in the room, when he was suddenly reminded of it by a very warm mouth on his, and warm hands on the side of his face, pulling him close for a kiss that seemed to go on forever.  
For the first time since his grandfather had given him the fabled Gibson, Jordan felt that the guitar was in the way. He put it down, and stood up so that he could continue kissing Kaidan. It wasn't really that different from kissing a woman. Less softness, perhaps. Fewer curves. Jordan's hands were on Kaidan's hips; Kaidan's were on Jordan's face. They had to stop to breathe, leaned against each other, panting helplessly.  
Kaidan dropped his head, and would have pulled away but Jordan held him close.  
"What's wrong?"  
"I … I just shouldn't have jumped you like that, that's all."  
"If you hadn't, this probably would never have happened." Jordan grinned with embarrassment. "Not only am I completely oblivious, I've never done this with another guy before."  
Kaidan looked up at him, "You know, that explains a lot."  
Soft, warm, dark eyes. Jordan leaned in to kiss him again. Much more fun than talking. He pulled Kaidan's shirt a little, so he could slide his hands under, touch the skin there. "No wonder you like to keep the room so cold," he whispered between a few burning kisses. "You're like a furnace."  
Kaidan laughed, kissed him again, leaving Jordan breathless.  
"Why didn't I do this earlier?" Jordan asked himself, completely forgetting that he was speaking aloud. Kaidan laughed again, pleased and amused. Jordan cut his amusement short by kissing him again, running his hands over the muscles of his back, holding Kaidan as close as he dared. He was a little nervous – he couldn't plan what to do next, as he had no idea what he was doing. He just knew that holding Kaidan like this, kissing him, was absolutely wonderful.  
"I was wondering that myself," Kaidan murmured. "Come here, let's sit down." Kaidan led him to the couch. He would have sat, but Jordan pushed him back under a rain of insistent kisses, until Kaidan was lying on the couch with Jordan over him, their bodies tangled together. "What do you want from me, Shepard?" Kaidan asked softly.  
"I have no idea," Jordan mused. "What are my choices? What do you want?"  
Kaidan laughed. "We'll start slow. I can see a lot of explanations will have to happen before this will work right."  
Jordan sighed. "You're not going to make me look at diagrams and pie charts, are you?"  
"No, this will be strictly physical demonstrations."  
"So why can't we start now?"  
"Well, for one thing," Kaidan grinned, "neither of us locked the door, and I can hear Liara and Ashley giggling outside."  
Jordan muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath, making Kaidan laugh again until Jordan quieted him with another wild kiss.  
"So… what was that song you were playing?" Kaidan asked when Jordan stopped to breathe.  
"Something new I was trying to get right." He kissed Kaidan's ear, whispered the lyrics that had been giving him so much trouble. "Warm, dark eyes, all I can see. Wishing, wondering, dark eyes – can it be? Tell me, are those dark eyes dreaming, are they dreaming of me?"


	11. Eros Orthros

Jordan kissed Kaidan's shoulder, making Kaidan murmur softly and turn towards him. Jordan grinned, and bent his head down to Kaidan's chest, began gently licking and sucking on Kaidan's nipples.  
Kaidan gasped, fully awake now. "Good morning, Jordan."  
"So I woke up," Jordan whispered between kisses, "and there was this totally sexy guy in my bed!" Jordan smiled at his lover. "I wonder if he's interested in having sex with me again."  
"Mmm." Kaidan smiled back at him, still drowsy. "You're a fast learner, aren't you?" He ran his hand through Jordan's hair. "And apparently insatiable."  
Jordan kissed him on the lips, pressed his stiffening cock against Kaidan's thigh. "Your fault. Totally your fault."  
Kaidan laughed, reached down to caress Jordan. "Oh, right, you're blaming this on me?"  
Jordan breathed slowly, and moved closer to Kaidan, letting Kaidan's hand work him to full stiffness. Kaidan's hand, warm and strong, pulled at him, then covered him with slick lubricant. "I thought that was still on the other table," murmured Jordan.  
"It was," Kaidan chuckled. "One of the neat parts of sleeping with a biotic. I don't have to get out of bed for things like that."  
"That's pretty handy," grinned Jordan.  
"Okay, bad puns? Turn off."  
Jordan kissed him again, "Liar. Nothing I do turns you off." He put his hand over Kaidan's so that Kaidan could cover his fingers with lubricant.  
"Nothing you've done yet," Kaidan corrected him. "There's still time. You could have some secret horrible habit."  
Jordan laughed. He gently stroked his fingers over the entrance to Kaidan's body, still wet from the night before, making Kaidan gasp. He moved his finger slowly over the ring of muscle there, slid one finger inside him, then another. "Dark eyed beauty in my arms, whisper soft, seduce me with your charms, make me love you like I've never loved before," Jordan sang softly, listening to Kaidan moan while his fingers slid in and out of Kaidan.  
Kaidan panted, "That's really unfair."  
"It's not my fault you can practically have an orgasm just from listening to some random guy sing to you."  
Kaidan laughed, shaking a little from the intensity of his physical reaction. "Didn't you wake me up for something? Sex, if I recall correctly." He rearranged himself, moved his legs out of the way so that Jordan could enter him.  
"Oh, yeah, that's right." Jordan moved over him, pulled Kaidan's legs over his hips while Kaidan rearranged the pillows. Jordan entered him slowly and carefully, and smiled in pleasure at the feel of Kaidan's muscles gripping his cock. Supporting himself on his arms, he let Kaidan shift so they were as close as possible, that he was as deep inside Kaidan as he could be. "You okay?"  
"I have a terrible urge to make jokes about serving under my commanding officer," Kaidan grinned up at him, "but, uh, other than that, I think I'm good."  
Jordan laughed. "You just never get tired of that, do you?" Jordan moved slightly, making Kaidan moan in pleasurable response.  
"I like seeing you laugh." Kaidan arched into Jordan's thrust, dug his hands into the sheets as he savored the incredible sensation of being filled by Jordan's cock, pounding deep inside him.  
Jordan leaned forward to kiss him again, then moved back so that he could continue moving in and out of Kaidan, bracing himself on his arms, using his lower body to control the depth and rhythm of penetration. Kaidan's moans, erotic and sweet; his body, warm and slick. Jordan moved faster, taking any opportunity he could get to lick or kiss Kaidan's body. Kaidan shifted, braced himself against the head of the bed so that Jordan could thrust deeper, and cried out in ecstasy as he came, his seed spilling between their bodies. He sank back into the bed, and Jordan came with one final thrust, filling him. Jordan threw back his head, gasping and trying to maintain some semblance of control before he finally pulled out and lay down next to Kaidan on the bed.   
"That is so amazing," murmured Jordan, and Kaidan lazily rolled to him for another kiss. Kaidan wiped away some of the sticky fluids, just enough so they wouldn't be stuck together. Jordan kissed him again, and pulled him close, and the two fell asleep in a sweaty tangle of bodies.

Jordan woke up a little bit later, hearing someone open the door. "Liara?" he asked drowsily.  
"Hello, are you two still in bed?" she giggled.  
Jordan propped himself up so he could see her. "You know, you could join us," he grinned. "There's room."  
Liara laughed. "Thank you, but I'm just looking for that book you borrowed."  
"Right," said Jordan. "And it was so important that you snuck into my room in the middle of the night."  
"It's dawn," she protested. "I thought you'd be awake by now."  
"Come in and close the door," said Kaidan, slightly more awake than Jordan.  
"Oh!" Liara scooted just inside the door and let it close behind her. "Sorry. Have you seen your new commercial?"  
Kaidan groaned, and tried to glare at Jordan. "I can't believe I let you talk me into that."  
"What can I say, it seemed like a good idea at the time." Jordan stretched and got out of bed, wrapping one of the blankets around his waist in a half-hearted attempt at modesty. Kaidan rolled over, and settled himself on the pillows and watched Jordan walk across the room, to pick up the book of Siarist teachings and hand it back to Liara. Jordan grinned at her, then walked into the bathroom, and closed the door. In the bathroom, Jordan showered, brushed his teeth and got dressed, then opened the door and looked out. Liara was sitting on the chair across from the bed, deep in conversation with Kaidan. Jordan met Kaidan's eyes, and grinned.  
"Don't you have to be on duty in ten minutes?"  
"Well, yeah," Jordan smiled. "But I'm pretty sure my boss will understand if I'm a little late. Oh wait! I don't have a boss! What are you two going on about, anyway?"  
Liara giggled. "We're not plotting against you or anything."  
"That's still subject to change," Kaidan grinned. "You should get going before Pressly gets started."  
"Good call." Jordan leaned over and kissed Kaidan, then gave Liara a friendly hug before heading down to the CIC, humming his new song to himself.  
"There's a place for you, in the Systems Alliance Military!" said one of the technicians in a deep announcer-style voice as Jordan walked past, and the others giggled.  
"You guys are so immature," Jordan chided, "you're going to make people of differing backgrounds and alternate lifestyle choices feel unwelcome!" His words prompted a round of laughs, and Jordan grinned.  
"At least the tune was catchy," smiled one of the navigators.  
"Thanks." Jordan checked his messages, and made a face at Admiral Hackett's voice. "I love how he starts everything with, 'I know you're not officially in the chain of command,' and then orders me to go do something."  
"You could say no," suggested one of the navigators.  
"Right, I could just ignore the lost Geth data. That won't ever come back to bite me in the ass."  
"I thought only Kaidan was allowed to do that," said Pressly in his most bland voice, and the sentry walking behind him nearly choked on his drink, trying to hold back laughter.  
"Have I shown you my new pistol, Pressly?"  
"No, Commander, you haven't," mused Pressly. "I did overhear Williams saying something about your target shooting the other day. At least, I assume it was target shooting, since she was talking about blanks."  
Everyone lost it at that, and Jordan threw up his hands. "I can't win! I can't beat your straight face, Pressly," he laughed. "But someday, man, someday."  
"Cling to those dreams, Commander."  
"Are you done undermining my authority? Set a course for Attican Beta so I can kill something and pretend it's you."  
"Yes, Commander."  
"Be sure to leave a spleen," giggled the little blonde navigator.  
"Heads are optional," grinned a technician.  
"You're like a bunch of schoolchildren. Or monkeys. A barrel of crazy, rabid monkeys." Jordan shook his head.  
Joker laughed.  
"What?" Jordan looked suspiciously at the pilot.  
"Nothing, Commander," Joker smiled. "Approaching Mass Relay."  
Jordan waved a hand. "Blah, blah, just fly the damn ship. Try to avoid the sun this time."  
"It was pretty," complained the little blonde navigator. "I want him to do it again."  
Pressly opened his mouth, but Joker spoke first. "Not one word, Pressly. I'm not as nice as the Commander. Engaging Mass Relay. All hands prepare for jump."  
Pressly made a face, but knew better than to risk the wrath of Joker, and Jordan laughed.

Eletania was pretty, but dangerous. Like many things in the galaxy. Too many things. Jordan shooed away another space monkey. "I never should have helped that damn thing get its food back."  
Garrus chuckled. "Someday you'll learn not to be nice, Shepard."  
They climbed back into the Mako and continued searching for the missing data module. Jordan drove over the next ridge, and stopped so that he could just stare. The scenery was beautiful, as all of Eletania was. But this was not a section of undeveloped garden world. This was a ruin. Grey stone. Metallic wires. Sheet metal. A strangely familiar pillar.  
"That looks Prothean," said Liara excitedly. "Oh, Shepard, we have to go check it out."  
"Investigate."  
Jordan shook himself. It had been a while since he'd heard anything from the voices, and for once, he was in total agreement with them. He drove up to the ruins, and they jumped out of the Mako. Liara started recording, taking notes, talking more to herself than her companions. Garrus walked around the pillar, curious. Jordan joined him.  
"That noise is really irritating," said Garrus suddenly. "But I don't see where it could be coming from."  
"I know," Liara agreed. "It's like broken machinery, or something. It makes me want to take it in for service."  
Jordan looked at his companions, but decided not to mention that he couldn't hear anything odd. He noticed a small dent at the base of the pillar, and knelt down for a closer look. It was an indentation, with an odd shape that reminded him of something. "Oh!" He opened his kit and pulled out the odd trinket that Sha'ira had given him. Jordan held the trinket in front of the pillar, to see if the shapes matched, and it flew from his hand, snapping into place at the base of the pillar.  
Bone-tipped arrows. Bronze arrowheads. Smooth stones and a strip of leather. Crude metal arrowheads. Steel arrowheads. Heavy lead bullets. Steel bullets. A never-ending stream of weapons, killing from a distance with an unerring eye.  
"We have seen. You have slain."  
"Shepard!" Jordan blinked in confusion, unsure how or why he was looking up at Garrus' face, then realized he was lying down on the cold stone. "Are you okay, Shepard?"  
Instinctively, he lied. "What? I'm fine. Why?"  
"There was a flash of light," said Liara uncertainly, "and you kind of fell over."  
"Oh," he said, and struggled to his feet. "I didn't see that." He realized that the indentation was gone, as if it had never been. "We should probably get going before we all have asthma attacks or something. Are you done taking pictures?"

Jordan dodged Dr. Chakwas and Liara long enough to make it to his room, and did something he had never done before. He locked the door. The sounds in his head grew louder, more insistent. Jordan pulled out his notebook and a pen, flipped to the first blank page, and started taking down the notes, trying to quiet the noise in his head. What was he doing? Falling in love while chasing after a monster who wanted to destroy all humans? And what about the Reapers? What if they were real? What was he thinking, getting involved with someone at a time like this?  
Jordan put down the pen and stared at the paper, seeing not the notes but pillars of smoke from burning farms and houses. He buried his face in his hands. He couldn't. He couldn't do this. Not anymore.  
"Jordan?"  
He looked up in surprise, drank in the sight of Kaidan's dark eyes before he remembered that he was supposed to be doing this alone. "What the - I locked the door!"  
Kaidan laughed guiltily. "Did you? I didn't notice." He shrugged. "Security is part of my job, remember?"  
"Yeah." Jordan looked down at his notebook again, but Kaidan reached out and took the pen away.  
"Your health is also part of my job," Kaidan reminded him, gently but firmly. "Sorry, Jordan, you can't black out on an alien planet and expect everyone to just ignore it."  
"I'm fine."  
"Great," smiled Kaidan. "Let's walk over to medbay and prove it."  
Jordan stared at his desk without answering.  
"Commander."  
"Fine." Jordan closed the notebook, and took the pen away from Kaidan. "Let's get it over with." He tossed the pen back into his bag.  
"I wasn't going to steal your pen, Jordan," grinned Kaidan. He had already taken apart two of Jordan's pens, damaging one beyond repair. The simplicity of the archaic device fascinated him.  
Jordan didn't respond to the teasing, and walked away before Kaidan could take his arm.  
With a sigh, Kaidan followed him, making sure he actually went to the medbay.  
"Well, Commander, so pleased you could join us," said Dr. Chakwas sternly. "You're lucky Lieutenant Alenko talked me out of more direct measures." Jordan raised an eyebrow, but didn't answer. Dr. Chakwas sighed and led him to the scanner.  
Jordan tried to hold still, but caught himself humming the tune in his head and Dr. Chakwas glared at him. He lay still, and waited for her to comment.  
"That... is some unusual brain activity, Commander."  
"It's Beethoven's Ninth. Well, the Chon variations for full orchestra and full choir in six-part harmony."  
Dr. Chakwas stared at him. "Commander. Stop it."  
"I can't. It's stuck. Can I go now?"  
Dr. Chakwas looked at the screen again.  
"Or you can wait forty minutes for it to finish," Jordan muttered.  
"Has this happened to you before?" she demanded.  
"More times than I like to think about. Can I go now?"  
"Fine," Dr. Chakwas sighed, and pulled back the screen. "I give up. You're medically fit, Commander, but there's something wrong with you."  
"Whatever."  
"What were you writing?" asked Kaidan quietly.  
Jordan stood up before answering. "A song," he said flatly. "I'll be in my room if anyone is looking for me." He walked out of the medbay and back to his quarters, but didn't bother to lock the door. Jordan looked around the room, at his desk, at the terminal, at his bag. At Kaidan's clothes in an untidy pile on the dresser. Kaidan's medications on the bedside table. How was he going to do this? How could he make Kaidan leave him alone?  
As if the mere thought of him was enough, Kaidan entered the room. He looked nervous and unhappy. "You're mad at me, aren't you?" he sighed. Jordan looked away. "I know Liara made it sound worse than it really was, but still... just the idea that something like that could happen.... I'm sorry, Jordan, I was just doing my job."  
"I know," said Jordan softly. He looked down at his terminal again, and wondered what would happen if he refused to listen. "So am I. Lieutenant, would you mind cleaning up a little? You left some of your stuff in here the other day." Jordan tried to make his voice sound cold and distant, but he wasn't sure if it was working. He couldn't hear himself.  
"Excuse me?" said Kaidan sharply.  
"I have some reports to go over. I'd appreciate it if you could get that done sooner rather than later." Jordan pulled up the last series of mission reports, and started reading them. Kaidan walked out of the room without saying anything that Jordan could hear. He forced himself to focus on his work, ignoring all the noise, internal and external. He was vaguely aware that Kaidan returned, and took his things away. When Kaidan was gone, Jordan sent out a message to Hackett, then went back to reading. Some other people walked in, but they wanted to talk to Jordan, not Commander Shepard. He ignored them and kept working.  
"Commander, you have a private call from Admiral Hackett in the Comm Room."  
Joker's voice snapped him out of his reverie. "I'll be right there." Jordan left the room, completely ignoring the two people who had been sitting on the couch, trying to get his attention. He knew he was doing this wrong; he knew he was doing a terrible job of leading. But he wasn't supposed to be leading. He was supposed to be doing this alone. Jordan walked into the comm room, and waited for the door to seal behind him before he spoke. "Hello, Admiral."  
"Shepard, your request is refused," Hackett sounded very tired. "The Normandy crew was assembled along very specific lines. The best people the Alliance has. There are no replacements, Shepard. So unless your crewmember requests a transfer for personal reasons, you'll just have to deal with it."  
"I figured as much, sir," said Jordan miserably. "But I had to try."  
"Do you mind if I ask why you thought this was necessary, Shepard?"  
Jordan tried to think. "I'm not ignoring you, sir, I'm trying to come up with a reason that doesn't make me sound like a lunatic or an asshole."  
Hackett sighed, and hit a few keys on his terminal. "We're off the record, Shepard. What the hell is going on? Chakwas has been tearing my ears off with some wild medical story that sounds like a horror holovid, Dr. T'Soni sent me some thesis on a hidden Prothean artifact, Pressly says you're not talking to anyone." Hackett held up a datapad. "And now this!"  
Jordan sighed, and closed his eyes. Hackett already knew the worst. There was no point in hiding the truth from him. "The voices in my head are jealous of my relationship with Alenko."  
"I'm guessing that was the lunatic response," Hackett grinned. "What was the asshole part?"  
"The fact that I can't explain that to Alenko."  
Hackett stared at Jordan through the screen. "You haven't told him?"  
Jordan shook his head. "And I'm not going to."  
"Shepard!"  
"It's bad enough that everyone thinks I'm nuts from Eden Prime," Jordan snapped. "I can't even use the firing range anymore because Pressly keeps analyzing my scores. I'm not going to have Alenko running around screaming that the Commander is possessed."  
"He wouldn't do that," said Hackett calmly. "You know he wouldn't."  
"People react weirdly when they find out they've been fooling around with a crazy person."  
"This is Kaidan we're talking about here. He wouldn't do that, and you know it," Hackett repeated sternly.  
Jordan sat down in a chair, and wished this whole mess would just go away.  
"Shepard, go get some rest. You look wiped out."  
"Yeah," Jordan agreed softly. "Thanks for listening to me, anyway."  
Hackett nodded. "Anytime you want to talk, Shepard, I'll be here. Hackett out."  
Jordan stood up and straightened himself, hoping that he didn't look as mentally screwed up as he felt. He walked back to his room, taking the time to nod politely to Pressly and some other people instead of just ignoring them outright, so that they would stop talking about him. Jordan finally made it to his room, and was relieved to find that Ashley and Garrus had given up. The room was empty, and he was alone. Jordan looked around again. The bed was neatly made, the bedside table and dresser dusted and cleaned.  
Jordan sat down at his desk and pulled out his notebook again. He read over the notes that he had written down earlier, replaying the song in his head. He realized that while it was correct, it would be impossible for anyone to perform. He pulled out his pen, and started adding space to pause, correcting the rhythm to account for human limitations, bringing some of the notes down to where the audience could actually hear it. He flipped back to the first page, and took a sip from the glass on his desk while he played it back to himself in his head. It wasn't until the second sip that the fact that there was a drink on his desk registered in his head.  
Jordan looked at his desk. There was also a covered tray that smelled like food there, in addition to a second can of his favorite drink. Jordan looked around once more.  
Kaidan was lying on the couch, half-asleep, his arm over his eyes to block out the light from the desk.  
Jordan stared down at his notebook again, then back at Kaidan. "You didn't have to do that," he said finally.  
"Is it Liara? Are you mad at me about that, or jealous? Gimme something to fix here, Jordan." His voice sounded strange, and Jordan wondered if he was hiding from the light or hiding the fact that he was crying.  
"I'm not mad at you," Jordan said lamely. "It's just... this isn't right. I can't do this."  
He sat up, and looked at Jordan. His eyes were red, and he was holding back either anger or tears. "So that's it? I figured you were going to throw me off the ship, but I didn't get any messages. What do you want from me, Jordan?" Kaidan demanded.  
Jordan flinched. "I wasn't going to throw you off the ship. It's not you, it's me. I'm not going to ruin your career because I can't deal with - forget it, Kaidan. Forget me. Go - go be happy somewhere. That's all I want."  
"Without you."  
Jordan looked at his drink, counting the droplets of water beading on the side of the glass.  
"I'll quit," offered Kaidan, trying not to sound desperate. "After we finish with Saren. Then you won't be my commanding officer anymore. Will that help?"  
Jordan looked up at him, unable to believe what he had just heard. Somehow, he wasn't sure how, he had crossed the room, had Kaidan in his arms again, and was trying to explain. "No, no, that's not it, you don't understand," Kaidan was interrupting him with kisses, warm, fiery ones that left a lingering heat on his skin, "I don't want you to fight Saren, Kaidan! I don't want you near him, I'm trying to protect you!" Kaidan was laughing, very quietly, very joyously, but he could taste saltiness on Kaidan's lips. Kaidan pulled him down to him, and they were lying on the couch, tangled up in each other's arms, lips and skin. "No, Kaidan, don't do this, don't do this to me," Jordan pleaded.  
"You need me," Kaidan whispered simply, and kissed him again.  
Jordan clung to him, the way a drowning man clings to his rescuer, kissed him wildly and hungrily, savoring the warmth of his body, the gentleness of his touch, until the sound of Kaidan's body drowned out the music in his head.


End file.
